Disclaimer: Don't own it.
Winter Song
Thursday, December 15th
Part Two
Ichigo
Ichigo hated the smell of hospitals. It was too clean, too sanitized. Disinfectant, sanitizer and hot water with some kind of soap. But it also held a lingering scent of sickness, of death.
He hated how cold they could be. Despite the heaters working to warm the place, he always felt as if he were in an icy grip.
The walls were always white and plain. Paintings hung in the hallways and in every room. An effort to lift the spirits of those who visited and those who rested there. But it was always for naught. No amount of color could paint away a family's pain.
The chair he sat in looked comfortable enough, but it was lumpy and old. He wondered, if he was doing so damn well and had so much money, why Ishida Ryuken didn't buy some newer, more comfortable chairs. Cheap bastard. Ichigo sighed heavily and attempted to find a better position for himself.
"Dammit." He whispered softly. He looked towards his mother's sleeping form. He must be careful not to wake her. She needed rest, lots of it.
Giving up, he sat back down in the chair and leaned his head back. He stared at the ceiling, trying to find patterns in the white paint as if it were the sky. He wished things could be so simple, to spend his days gazing upward watching clouds. But reality was harsh, and it was getting harsher still. He sat up straight and ran a hand across his face. He watched his mother as she slept.
Her face was colorless, more akin to the sheets on which she slept than to the pink shaded peach that was her normal color. Her head was now wrapped in a scarf, hiding the last remnants of what used to be a full head of long, golden locks. Her cheeks were sunken in, deep groves marring her kind face. Dark circles incased her eyes, deep purple in color, like bruises. Wire upon wire ran from her body, connected to machines.
Ichigo recalled when he had hugged her a few hours prior. He couldn't hear her heart beat beneath her skin; it was so light and instead had to rely on the beeps of a machine to tell him she was okay, that she was alive.
It had taken its toll the day before, the chemo. Her body, frail as it was, could only take so much and she had collapsed.
Why wasn't it working? They said it would help her. But all it was doing was speeding up death's progress. He didn't know what he'd do if she…
"Ichigo." He looked towards the door to find his father leaning against its frame. He too looked tired. No sleep had come to either of the Kurosaki males the night before. "Orihime took the twins home."
Ichigo nodded.
"That's nice of her." His voice was dull and empty.
Isshin sighed and walked to his wife's bed. He bent down and placed his lips to the cool skin of her forehead. He whispered to her. Ichigo didn't catch what he said. His father stood straight, a serious look spread across his face.
"The cancer is officially stage three." Melanoma. His mother had thought it was a simple mole on her shoulder, but more began to appear and at a rapid rate.
Ichigo let out a shaky breath.
"She has a 25-60% percent chance of pulling through. But it's progressing fast." His father wore the face of a doctor but, his eyes held unshed tears. Isshin fought to keep strong in front of his son.
"It's better than nothing." It was better than stage four. Progressing to stage four was better than stage four itself.
Please, don't die, Mom.
Silence took them. Ichigo stared at the ceiling again, his father's gaze focused on the visual representation of his wife's heartbeat. The heart monitor's steady beep was all that could be heard. It was a reminder. Her heart was weak and had to use that machine to voice its presence. I'm here. I'm here! It seemed to say. Don't give up on me!
Ichigo closed his eyes. He really hated hospitals.
A/N:
Filler? Short? Boring?
Not much. I'm sorry if it disappoints.
Affiance has been updated too. Read it! Please? :3
Thanks for the reviews! My plush bunnies, Reid and Avery, say 'Hi!' (RANDOM. But I'm half asleep so..)
Please review.
S.B